


Whatever It Takes

by DaveandKen_Archivist



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Angst, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-14
Updated: 2010-05-14
Packaged: 2018-08-17 01:19:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8125000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaveandKen_Archivist/pseuds/DaveandKen_Archivist
Summary: Starsky becomes embroiled in a crime for reasons known only to him





	

**Author's Note:**

> by Dararose.
> 
> Note from the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Dave & Ken's Diner](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Dave_%26_Ken%27s_Diner), which experienced a drop in traffic to low levels following the opening of the official Starsky & Hutch archive. Still wanting to preserve the archive, Open Doors began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. An announcement was posted to OTW media channels, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact the archivist using the e-mail address on [ Dave and Ken's Diner collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/daveandkensdiner/profile).

 

Story Notes:

I've always wondered whether either of the guys would do something wrong, if they felt they had to.  I still have never come up with a satisfactory answer.  But I wrote a story about it anyway.

 

 

 

He stood close to the vast plate-glass window overlooking the ocean,  
which stretched out as far as his vision could follow it.  His dejected  
body language screamed that, if the glass was not there to impede  
him, he might happily step off the jagged, rocky precipice and fall,  
twisting and struggling as his mind still clung to the idea of  
life.  It would not last forever, though and he would ultimately  
float gracefully in the ever-changing flow of the beckoning green  
surf.  Mindless and without responsibilities, his body would return  
to the sands with the foam each night and then again make the  
lengthy trip each day, until there was nothing left and he was  
forgotten.

He shook his head, unmindfully disarranging the unruly dark curls  
and pushed himself away from the glass, insolently leaving smears he  
knew would cause no one but the house-keeping staff a moments'  
notice, but which gave him satisfaction on some level to be leaving  
a part of himself behind.

Sensing he'd been dismissed, he turned and strode toward the door.   
With his hand on the knob, he whirled, as if possessed by the one  
great fear that gripped him.  He spoke softly, but with clenched  
teeth.

"My partner has no part in this, Ponti.  He becomes involved; there  
won't be a rat hole anywhere for you to hide in."

The other man sat with tented fingers, smugly relishing the  
knowledge that he had the upper hand.

"Your partner is of absolutely no consequence to us, Detective Starsky.   
You keep him under wraps and it stays that way."  He picked up a  
sheaf of correspondence, as if to stress that the distasteful  
interview was over.  "You let him even guess what part you play in  
this and it's over for both of you."

Bright sunlight replaced the dark figure on the threshold....then  
the house reverberated with the sound of the door coming perilously  
close to being parted from its hinges.

Mikos Ponti allowed himself a small smile of triumph before  
returning to his work and dismissing the whole incident from his  
mind.

Dave Starsky settled himself in the seat of the Torino.  Suddenly  
the anger and frustration overcame him and he balled his fists and  
pounded on the steering wheel, which seemed in danger of succumbing  
to the brunt of his rage. He briefly wondered if he had a target  
drawn on his back. Even though it went against everything he  
believed in, the corner he had been backed into was rapidly closing  
in around him and he felt he'd been left with no other options.

Finally, weakened and spent by his burst of emotion, he backed the  
car out onto the coast highway and headed for Metro.

Hutch looked up and grinned as he entered the squad room.

"You look like hell.  Late night?"

"You wouldn't believe it.  Has Dobey noticed how late I am yet?"

"Nah."  Hutch chuckled at the look of relief on his partner's  
face.  "He hasn't stuck his head out and asked where the hell you  
were for at least ten minutes."

"Terrific."

"So….where were you?  I called your place, but no answer."

"Wasn't there."

"Apparently.  Sleep over at Julie's again?"  Hutch smiled, relishing  
the on-going banter about his partner's sexual proclivities.

Starsky shot him a venomous look.

"Get off my back, Hutchinson!  If I want you to know my itinerary,  
I'll send it to you."

Hutch held up his hands in surrender, a wounded expression in his  
eyes.

"Whoa, I'm not checking up on you.  I'm just interested in how you  
feel, where you go, what you do….even who you do, buddy."  Hutch  
clapped the other man on the shoulder.  "And sometimes it's kinda  
hard to keep up with that last category.  Live with it.  I'm your  
best friend and that's not about to change."

"Bet me." Starsky growled.  Feeling guilty for taking his  
frustrations out on Hutch, he added, "I'm sorry, it's nothing you  
did.  I'm just in a bad mood."

"S'okay, Starsk, we all have `em.  Anything I can do to help?"

"Nope, this one's all mine.  Got caught between a rock and a hard  
place again.  You know me."

A troubled look crossed the blond detective's face.

"Okay, but I'm always here if you need me.  Enough said?"

Starsky looked up into the guileless blue eyes and his resolve was  
weakening when Dobey popped his head out of his office.

"Nice of you to make an appearance, Starsky.  Now you two can get  
your tails out and earn your pay!"

"Okay, Cap'n, we're on it."

Looking back up at his friend and partner, his response  
was, "Yep, `nough said."

Hutch was perplexed.  Was it his imagination or did he hear a tremor  
in Starsky's voice.  Lately, his partner had been moody and  
distant.  All his efforts to ferret out the reason had been met with  
a snarled rebuff.  Whatever it was, the man was determined to work  
it out on his own.  Deciding he was becoming too sensitive to his  
best friend's mercurial temperament, he brushed the thought aside  
and followed him to the car.

Starsky instantly tensed when the call came in.  A 415, the code for  
a major disturbance which could turn deadly.  Lately Hutch had found  
himself wondering what life would be like in a career which wasn't  
fraught with possible danger and pondered the idea of broaching the  
possibility of a change to his partner.  He knew how much being a  
cop meant to Starsky, though, and always found himself coming just  
short of mentioning the subject.

Starsky muscled the big car into a skid, almost before the address  
came over the radio and was speeding off in the opposite direction  
toward the waterfront.  He pushed the car like the furies with all  
the wrath and fire they possessed were chasing him and Hutch held  
onto the dash, hoping they'd get there in one piece.  At times it  
seemed to him that his partner deliberately headed for a parked car  
or other immovable obstacle, then thought better of it and  
straightened the wheel at the last moment when he heard Hutch's  
voice over the screaming of the tires.

The night was closing in on them as they screeched to a stop at the  
warehouse designated by the dispatcher.  Hutch was surprised to see  
that there were no other patrolmen there yet.  The building was  
sinister-looking with its barred windows and boarded-up doors.   
Starsky was out of the car as soon as it came to a complete stop and  
Hutch wondered why he was displaying so much intensity, but didn't  
have a chance to ask.  His partner motioned for him to go to the  
left and they parted.  Hutch never reached the back door, which was  
ajar.  The blinding flash of pain in his head was barely registered  
before inky blackness pulled him to her vast breast and rocked him  
into unconsciousness.

Starsky was expected.  Three men were draped lazily on crates and  
boxes casually waiting for him to make his presence known.  He  
recognized two of them.  One was Carlos Ponti's right hand man,  
Hernando Apollyon.  The man was a massive, vicious brute, who was  
feared by most of the elements of the mafia underworld, who knew him  
as simply Nando.  In contrast to his shaved head and his huge body,  
he was perfectly groomed, his expensive Armani suit custom tailored  
to his frame.  One of the other men he recognized as Johnny Minetti,  
a small-time hood who pushed cocaine.  The other man was a stranger,  
but both were obviously underlings from the manner in which Apollyon  
was ordering them around.

"Where's Hutch?"  Starsky barked angrily.

"We had to detain Officer Hutchinson outside, "  The man easily  
outweighed Starsky by seventy-five pounds and was at least six foot  
four, but that didn't stop the detective from getting in his face as  
he smirked, his disregard for the police force and their lack of   
effectiveness when it came to their his bosses operation.

"If you hurt him...."

"Relax, Starsky."  He let the name drip from his lips like he'd  
swallowed bile. "We just gave him a little tap on the head to keep  
him out of the picture."

Outraged, Starsky grasped the man's shirt collar and yanked him down closer to his own height.

"Damn it, you know that wasn't part of the deal.  What're you trying  
to pull here?"

Apollyon took advantage of the encounter to pull Starsky's Berretta  
from its holster and jam it into his ribcage.

"Whatever the deal is, it's ours, not yours, pig.  And you'll do  
whatever we say.  Isn't that right, Officer?"

Starsky backed off, raising his hands to indicate his acquiescence.

"Hey, what's going on here, Nando?"

Starsky turned to see two more men entering the warehouse.  He  
recognized them as cheap hoods who  
evidently thought they'd hit the big-time, making the first of what  
they hoped would be a series of big dope deals with Ponti's  
organization.  Starsky's presence had been demanded to make sure  
that all went as planned.

"Welcome, gentlemen.  You're perfectly safe.  Officer Starsky is  
only here to insure that things are handled with the utmost  
efficiency.  You have the cash, I assume?"

They came forward hesitantly, suspicious of the weapon in the big  
man's hands.   One of them slammed the briefcase he held in top of a  
nearby crate.  Apollyon motioned with the gun for one of his men to  
open it.

"It's all there, man.  We wouldn't cross Ponti."

"Very good.  Now for our part of the bargain."

Apollyon suddenly swung the weapon around and  the detective could  
only watch in shock as the big man brought both men down with two  
well-placed bullets from Starsky's own gun.

*********************************************************************  
 

Hutch startled awake, instantly aware that his partner might be in  
trouble and reaching for his gun.  Instead he found an empty holster  
and an excruciatingly bright light in his eyes.

"Hutch, it's okay."  The familiar voice of his superior soothed him  
and he realized that he was on an examining table in what he  
recognized as the ER at Memorial and the light belonged to a doctor,  
who was busily studying his eyes.

He voiced his first thought.  "Is Starsky all right?"

Captain Dobey glanced at the doctor.

"He seems to be okay, Captain Dobey," the man said.  "He may have a mild concussion.  Would you rather have us keep him for observation  
overnight or is there someone who can stay with him?"

"We'll handle it....I'll have someone take care of him."

"He needs to be wakened every couple hours and if he becomes  
disoriented or starts vomiting violently, we need to be notified."

"Okay....okay, consider it done."  Dobey dismissed the man with a  
wave of his hand, anxious to be alone with his detective.

Hutch looked into Dobey's face for the first time and knew that  
something was very wrong.  The big man looked grim and utterly  
defeated, like he had when Starsky had been shot.  The bile rose in  
his throat and he nearly choked on it.

"But Starsky is okay, Cap?  Tell me right now that Starsky's not  
hurt!"  His voice rose to a anxiety level which drew glances from  
the other patients and medical personnel.

"Stay calm, Hutch....he's not hurt.  It's just that..."  Of all the  
distasteful things he'd had to do in his life, this was going to be  
the worst and Dobey hesitated, not quite knowing how to tell Hutch  
what he needed to know.

Hutch imprisoned the Captain's wrist in a death grip and hissed  
through clenched jaws, "I need to know....now!"

"He's at the station.  He killed two men, Hutch.  They're trying to  
get his statement right now."

Hutch fell back against the raised top half of the examining table  
with a sigh of relief.

"So....it's not like that's never happened before.  Call and tell  
him he can pick me up when he gets done."

"Can't do that, Hutch.  The men still had their weapons in their  
pockets.  Starsky's reverted to his military training.  All he's  
giving IA is his name, rank and serial number.  My guess is that  
they're going to have to hold him."

Hutch came up off the table, immediately hostile and defensive.

"Aw come on, Cap'n, you don't really believe Starsky's done  
something wrong!  You know Simonetti and his headhunters have had  a hard-on to catch us crossing the line ever since we first started."   
The blond detective waved his arms around in agitation.  He  
struggled to sit up and then slid off the table.

He wavered and his captain tried to push the detective back down,  
but he had regained his balance and was already headed for his  
clothes, which were flung over a nearby chair.

"Hutch, I don't think it's wise to leave the hospital.  They'll want  
you to stay until they finish examining you."

Hutch stopped in the act of pulling on his jeans.

"Are you kidding, Cap'n?  There's nothing that's gonna keep me here  
when Starsky needs me.  Are you gonna drive me to the station or do  
I call for a taxi?"

Knowing there was nothing he could say or do to change things, Dobey  
reluctantly left Hutch to his own devices and headed to the nurse's  
station to let them know that their patient would be signing out  
against medical advice.

An unprecedented number of officers had gathered around Metro's  
front desk, heatedly debating the latest turn of events, but silence  
fell when Hutch and Dobey appeared and the wave of men and women parted for the pair as though Hutch once more had the plague.  There  
were no heartfelt good wishes for Starsky.  Instead an air of  
resentment pervaded the building as though the detective had been  
tried and sentenced already, labeling him a "dirty" cop, the most  
unforgivable of sins.  Hutch set his shoulders and looked straight  
ahead, refusing to meet the eyes of his co-workers.

Reaching the interrogation room, he looked through the one-way glass to see Starsky sitting at the table, fists resting one on top of the  
other with his chin completing the totem, staring into space.  His  
hair was in disarray and worry lines dug deeply into his forehead.   
He didn't look up as Hutch slipped into the room and took the chair  
across from him.

"Starsk....what's going on?"   When no answer was forthcoming, he  
tried again.  "Buddy....what've you gotten yourself into now?"

The deep blue eyes met his briefly and then dropped to study the  
table.

"A whole boatload of shit, Hutch, and you'd better steer clear of  
it!"

Hutch forced a dry chuckle.  "Hey, you know there's nothing the two  
of us can't handle together.  You gotta tell me what's going on,  
though."

This time his partner's eyes bore no resemblance whatsoever to the  
warm, good-natured man who was closer to him than a brother ever  
could have been.  The sheer desperation and fierce anger startled  
him.

"Damn it, Hutch....I'm only gonna say this one time, so get it  
straight.  There is no `us' anymore.  I'm fed up with you, with  
being a cop, with the whole damned system and I'll be glad to be  
free of it.  I don't want to see you or hear from you again....ever!"

Starsky rose from the chair with such force that he knocked it  
backward halfway across the small room.  He  moved quickly to the  
far wall and leaned on it with his arms out and his head down.

The color drained from Hutch's face and he sat a moment in shock.   
He felt real pain from the sudden shift in heart rhythm....it  
actually felt like it was slamming against the walls of his chest.   
Butterflies the size of eagles suddenly soared in his stomach.   
Opening his mouth to speak, he found that all he could do was  
stutter and even then he had no idea what to say.  He got up slowly and went over to his partner.  Hutch put out  
his hand as though he would touch the familiar dark curls, but  
Starsky seemed so distant, so unapproachable that he pulled back at  
the last moment.  He turned and left the room.

If he'd looked back, he would have seen the strength go out of  
Starsky's arms and his head land hard against the wall.  Tears of  
frustration and defeat ran unchecked from his eyes.

The law gave the detective the power to exercise his rights, but the  
only one he chose to use was refusing to entertain visitors.  Hutch  
paid many late-night visits to the holding cells,  but his partner's  
only reaction was to twist himself more deeply into a fetal position  
and retreat further into whatever world his mind had turned to for  
comfort.  The detective had refused bail and sat impassive and  
silent throughout his arraignment, his ridiculously short trial and  
his sentencing.  Totally frustrated, Hutch knew that with his  
partner's service record, almost any rational excuse would have  
gotten an acquittal or a lighter sentence.  But the judge considered  
the man's lack of participation as an admission of guilt and an  
unrepentant attitude and threw the stiffest sentence possible his  
way.  Dobey called in every favor that he'd accumulated through the  
years to keep Starsky out of the general population, usually a given  
for jailed police officers, but Judge Atwater was so angered by the  
dark-haired man's attitude that even that was denied.  It was no  
more than most people had expected and Dobey tried to comfort his  
remaining detective as he saw his partner taken back to his cell.   
The grim facts had finally caught up with the man and desperation  
and exhaustion were warring for supremacy in his body.

  
The only light came from a sparse few bulbs burning in the cavernous  
corridor lined with cells, but the night before Starsky was due to  
be shipped out for San Quentin, Hutch found himself once again  
prowling the drab halls, still hoping to get some kind of  
explanation from the man he called brother, partner and best friend.

"Starsky?"  There was no answer for a minute and Hutch steeled  
himself to be rejected again.

"Hutch....I-I got no right to ask you this, but....will you watch  
over ma?  Nicky's worthless when it comes to that kind of thing and  
she's gotta be hurtin'."

"You didn't even have to ask, you know I'll check on her from time  
to time.  I called her shortly after the verdict came in.  I didn't  
know if you would or not."

"Couldn't," Starsky's voice seemed muffled by the pillow he was  
holding tightly to his chest.  "I just didn't know what to say.   
How's she taking it?"

"She's doing okay, but doesn't understand.  None of your friends do,  
either.  If you'd just explain what happened..."

Starsky threw up his hands in a hopeless gesture.  "I  
can't....that's all I can say."

The pent-up frustration and pain Hutch had been living with the last  
six weeks found a bull's eye on the still turned back of the  
prisoner before him.

"Damn it....can't or won't, Starsky?  What cock-eyed code of ethics  
are you following, anyway?  I know you and I know you didn't do what  
they say you did and if it takes me the rest of my life, I'm gonna  
prove it!  Who the hell are you protecting?  And from what?"

Starsky suddenly swung his legs off the cot and sat up.

"That's the last thing I want you to do, Hutchinson!  Don't go  
poking your nose into something you don't understand.  It's a done  
deal.  Leave it alone if you care anything about me."

"No....that's the one thing I can't do.  I can't and I won't!"   
Hutch gripped the bars tightly.  "And if you won't help me, I'll  
damned well do it by myself."

Starsky rubbed his face with his hands and tried to think what to  
say to convince his partner not to interfere.  When he looked up  
again, Hutch had disappeared into the murky light of the corridor.

"Knock yourself out, Blondie.  It's hopeless," he announced to an  
empty cell.

*********************************************************************

  
It was with great trepidation that Starsky watched the penitentiary  
loom larger on the horizon.  Awakened at the crack of dawn, shackled  
and led to the bus with several other inmates, he'd spent most of  
the ride in numb silence.  He'd been to the facility on many  
occasions, but it looked entirely different to him, almost like a  
medieval castle, which he knew had a hideous dungeon beneath it.  He snorted at the fanciful thought.  Well....a fantasy would definitely  
be much kinder to him than this reality.

He was first to get off the bus and was on the bottom step when he  
felt the quick jab in his back which threw him slightly off  
balance.  Unable to put his hands out to catch himself, he tottered  
for a second before plunging to the hard concrete with a thud.   
Absorbing the damage mostly to his face and head, he was dazed for a second.  Then he could feel the blood running down his face from  
several abrasions in his skin.

"What's the matter?  They don't teach you how to walk in the police  
academy, de-tective?"  The word oozed sardonically from the stocky  
prison guard's lips like a curse word.  The other prisoners and  
guards seemed to find the comment hilarious.

Starsky struggled to his feet and glared at the man. 

"Make you feel a little better about yourself, asshole?"

The back of the guard's meaty right hand landed with all the brute  
strength the man could muster across Starsky's face, splitting his  
lip open.  The dark-haired man struggled to stay on his feet and  
fixed his attacker with a confrontational stare, blood running down  
his chin.

"You watch your mouth."  The guard's alarmingly crimson face was so  
close the Starsky could see the veins in his bulging eyes.  "You  
think you're here on some fancy vacation, city boy?  Best you learn  
to keep your trap shut and just do what you're told or you'll have a  
tough row to hoe around here."

The frustration and anger Starsky had built up over the last months  
had reached its zenith.  Even as he spat the bloody mess that was in  
his mouth into the guard's face, his brain was working overtime to   
telegraph to his body what an insane move it was.  But his  
impulsiveness had always gotten him into hot water.  He could read  
his fate on the man's face even as the nightstick connected with his  
stomach and he found himself sprawled on the cement for the second  
time in ten minutes.  The baton rained blows down on him as Starsky  
curled into a ball with his arms protecting his head.  The beating  
was mercifully ended by one of the other guards after a few minutes.

Sitting naked on a hard, cold bench in the infirmary, he waited for  
them to get done with the other inmates and devote their full  
attention to him.  There would most certainly be a body-cavity  
search and whatever other indignities the angry guards could scare  
up.   After only moments of rational thought, Starsky was forced to  
admit his course of action so far hadn't been too smart.  Maybe he  
really was a moron, like Hutch kept telling him.  Hutch....his  
stomach churned at the thought of his friend.  He couldn't count how  
many times a day he turned to make one of his philosophical comments of life only to find that Hutch wasn't there to listen.  He wondered  
if his former partner still held out hope of getting him out....what  
he thought of Starsky now....what he was doing.  `Maybe Hutch can  
find a way to save me from myself,' he thought hopefully for just a  
moment. `Give it up, Starsky....that path leads to nothing but  
madness.'

  
   Hutch raced along the dark alley, the perp always just ahead of him,  
but somehow so elusive that he could never quite see him....just a  
shadowy figure dressed in dark clothing.  It was uncanny the way he  
was able to glide around obstacles and blend into the shadows so  
that the detective couldn't get a shot at him.  He kept shouting for  
the man to stop, but the chase seemed to go on forever.  Splashing  
through puddles from the days rain, he felt the cold seeping through  
his tiring body.  Ahead he could see that the alley culminated in a  
dead end and saw the figure stop and turn, gun in hand raised to  
kill him.  He fired the Magnum and knew from experience that he'd  
scored a solid hit.  Feeling the regret that always accompanied this  
extreme action from him, he laid two fingers on the man's neck  
although he knew that there would be no movement there.  As he moved  
the lifeless body, Hutch recoiled in horror.  Starsky's dead,  
accusing eyes stared at him....his terror woke him instantly and he  
lay there, trembling, for a long time before finally drifting back  
into an fitful, uneasy sleep.

*********************************************************************  
 

Starsky sat on his cot and mulled over his alternatives.  He knew  
his time was running out fast.  The other cons had left him alone so  
far, other than derogatory comments about his former career.  But he  
felt them eying him speculatively, saw their gestures and heard  
their suggestive comments.  He knew they were plotting something and  
that whatever it was didn't bode well for him. 

Strangely enough to him, his biggest regret was not being locked in  
a prison, it was the loss of that sometimes unseen, but always  
present shadow....the other half of his soul....lost to him as  
suddenly as if a gardener had pruned a tree and cut away a branch  
which balanced the whole perfectly, symmetrically.  He felt totally  
off-center and very alone.  Hutch had been up to see him every  
visiting day, but he'd refused his presence to the other man.  He  
knew what it must be doing to Hutch, and wondered how long it would be before the other half of the former team got the idea and stopped  
coming.

At the evening meal, he intuitively knew the other inmates were  
going to make a move....and soon.

*********************************************************************  
 

The phone had evidently been ringing for some time before it finally  
reached the darkest corners of Hutch's mind.  As often happened,  
habit took over and he groaned a breathless "Starsk?" into the phone  
before he'd had a chance to think about it.

A pleasant feminine voice answered, "Ken....Rachael Starsky....I  
must have wakened you, dear."

"Rachael?" Hutch repeated woodenly.

"Yes, I always forget the time difference.  I've just been sitting  
here thinking of my boy in that....that place and wondered if you'd  
been able to see him yet."

"I've been there every weekend, but he refuses to see me, Rachael.   
I don't know what else to do."

"I'm sorry, Hutch, he has his father's stubbornness.  I know he must  
think you'll be better off forgetting about him.  It's just so  
wrong.  Maybe I should come out there and give him a good talking-  
to."

Hutch allowed himself a small smile at that picture, knowing what  
kind of emotional hold Starsky's diminutive mother had on him.

"Don't you dare, Rachael, you're not well enough right now. "  The  
woman had a heart condition and the last few months had been  
extremely hard on her.  Hutch knew she was holding herself together  
through sheer force of will and even though that was considerable,  
it was also fragile at her age.

She sighed.  "I know....but I miss him so much.  You know, he was  
always doing special things for me.  The last time I talked to him,  
I thought I was being stalked and he called the police department  
here and that was the end of it.  I'm a foolish old woman, but those  
things...."

Hutch sat up on the edge of the bed.

"You thought you were being followed?"

"Oh, it was more than that.  I even had the feeling that someone had  
been in the house at times.  Nicky didn't believe me and took me to  
a Dr. for some nerve pills.  I was probably just imagining things  
anyway, but Davey never doubted me.  He said he'd do something about  
it and he apparently did."

An idea was rapidly forming in Hutch's mind and it was all he could  
do to rein in his excitement as he finished the call with Rachael  
and hurriedly got ready for work.

Without thinking, he barged into Captain Dobey's office, startling  
the man into choking on a bite of the sweet roll he was eating.   
After Hutch pounded on his back for a few moments, he was able to  
articulate a few well-chosen words.

"You learn your manners from that ex-partner of yours?  Doors are  
made for knocking."

"Sorry, Cap, but I think I've got something on Starsky."

After a hurried discussion, during which Dobey did all he could to  
dissuade his detective, Hutch was granted permission to visit the  
prisoner in an official capacity.

Hutch sat at a worn wooden table in the dingy interrogation room,  
waiting to talk to Starsky.   It seemed that everything in the place  
was touched with shades of gray, no color anywhere.  He shuddered,  
thinking of his friend's bright spirit being enslaved in this world  
of shadow and violence. 

God, how he missed that spirit!  He'd thought of very little else,  
but still it attacked him when he least expected it....the feeling  
of being alone in the world, of having lost something so valuable  
that he could never conceive of replacing it.

The metal door burst open and Starsky was pushed into the room with such force that he fell to his knees on the floor.  Hutch jumped to  
his feet instinctively, conditioned from years of protecting this  
man....ready to fight for him. 

Before a battle could ensue, the young prison guard apologized.

"He refused to come, sir, even though I told him it was official  
business.  `Fraid I had to persuade him."

The guard pulled the prisoner roughly to his feet and  
forced him down into the chair opposite Hutch, leaving his hands  
manacled.

"Watch out for this one, he ain't been tamed yet."  The man  
sneered.  "I'll be right outside the door if ya need me." The guard  
closed the door, leaving the pair in uncomfortable silence.

Hutch allowed it to continue, banking on Starsky's nervous energy  
to provide an opening for the conversation.  There was no way he was going to make it easy for the man, not after what he'd  
put him through.  He settled down in the chair on the other side of  
the table and studied the chiseled features that he knew so  
well.  `Christ, it looks like they've been using him as a punching  
bag,' he thought to himself, taking in the split lip and black eye,  
various cuts near his hairline and the way he held himself.  It was  
apparent that any movement was costly and just breathing probably  
required more endurance than he was capable of right now.

Finally, Starsky raised his head and glared at him.

"Well, didja pay for the whole tour or just to see the freak show?"

"I suppose I deserved that, showing up unannounced....inquiring  
after your welfare, so to speak."  Hutch replied acidly.  He was  
here to do a job and he wasn't going to let it degenerate into a  
pissing match, not at this stage.  "In answer to your question,  
everyone's doing well and sends their best wishes."

Starsky snorted and resumed studying the table.

"Your mom called yesterday, asking about you."

Hutch took grim satisfaction in the intense flash of interest which  
sparked the formerly lifeless eyes now raised quickly to his.

"What....not quite the totally hardened criminal yet?  But then,  
most cons still worship their moms.  Maybe you've carved her name on  
your arm already, huh?"

"Screw you, Hutch.  You know how much I care."  Starsky half-rose  
from his seat.  "Don't even joke about something like that."

Hutch decided he might as well climb out on a limb, whether it was  
cut out from under him or not.  He stared deeply into the troubled  
blue eyes.

"I know you did what you did because they threatened your mother's  
life, Starsk."

One look at the other man's face told him that he'd hit his target.   
Starsky fell back into his seat with a deep sigh and the tortured  
eyes veered away from his steady gaze.

"I always knew you were good.  At this rate, you'll make lieutenant  
before long."

"I don't plan to advance in the ranks, buddy.  In fact, before this  
little fiasco came up, I was hoping to talk to you about finding  
another line of work."

"I don't believe you."

"It doesn't matter now, anyway.  Our first priority is to get you  
out of this place."  Hutch pointed his forefinger at the other  
man.  "Once that's done, we have a lot of talking to do.  Like why  
you didn't trust me enough to ask for help.  Who's behind this,  
Starsk?"

"I can't tell you.  There's more than just ma's life at stake."

"They're holding something else over you?"

"You're a dead man if you find out."

"I'm capable of taking care of myself."

"How can I be sure of that?  Look, Hutch....they got to me at just  
the right time.  All that work to get back on the force.  I don't  
think I was ready....maybe I didn't even want to come back.  It was  
more of a personal thing....to prove to myself I could do it, to  
give Gunther a black eye, I don't know."  Starsky raised his hands  
to gesture and then let them fall to the table.  "All I know is that  
when they approached me, I was damned determined that nobody else  
was gonna die because of me.  Terry, those cops, Lonnie Craig,  
Riker....all the people I've killed in the last few years.  They  
haunt me....I see them in my nightmares."

"But, Starsk...."

"Do you think I could live with it if I was responsible for my mom  
or you or anyone else that I care about getting wasted?"  Starsky  
looked at his best friend intently.  "I didn't kill those men,  I  
was just there to see that a drug deal went down without a hitch,  
supposedly.  I was a fool, but it wasn't the first time I've done  
something stupid."

"And you got set up.  I knew it was something like that.  Who,  
Starsky....you gotta tell me who."

"I'd rather stay in prison.  Can't you see that if something happens  
to you because of all this, it's been for nothing?"

"And if I go poking around blind, I'm gonna stir up a hornet's nest  
and you know that I won't let it go."

"Damn it, Hutch, you have to!"

Hutch rose from the chair and signaled the guard

"Then I guess this interview is over." he said flatly.

"Let me think about it, okay?"

"You think and you think hard, `cause I'm getting you out if I have  
to dig a tunnel."  Hutch hissed softly as the guard came through the  
door.

"I'll be in touch," he called as the man prodded Starsky non-too-  
gently in the back with his nightstick out into the hall.

  
Starsky waited in his cell for the evening meal, unnerved by the  
abnormal quiet of the cellblock.  When the cell door slid open, he  
walked slowly toward the dining hall, not at all anxious to confront  
the other inmates.  He had gone about halfway when a big arm snaked  
out of the cell he was passing and hauled him in.  He found himself  
facing a bearded giant roughly the size of a grizzly bear.  Starsky  
had seen him around and knew that his name was Quint and that he  
kept to himself most of the time.  The other inmates seemed to think  
he was simple-minded, but the ex-detective, trained and experienced  
in character study, thought he could detect real intelligence in the  
close-set dark eyes and felt that the dumb routine was an act.

The big man deposited him on the bunk and stood staring at him as if  
puzzled about what to do next.

"You may end up gettin' a piece of me, but you're gonna have a  
battle on your hands, friend."  Starsky growled.

The big man chuckled.

"Man....you're really not my type.  I take care of my own needs, but  
thanks all the same for the offer."

"It wasn't an offer."  Starsky grinned at the soft-spoken, obviously  
intelligent prisoner.  "If my body doesn't turn you on, you must  
have had some other reason for your invitation to drop in."

"Just a warning.  You could use somebody to watch your back  
tonight.  Bad moon rising, if you know what I mean."

"You volunteering?"

"Maybe," Quint answered with a twinkle in his eye.  "But you've  
gotta act like we're an item."

"Terrific," Starsky mumbled, clearly not relishing the idea.

"It's the only way you can be sure of someone's protection around  
here.  It's almost a sacred thing....like being married and most of  
the cons respect it."

"And you're giving me your word we'll only be acting?"  Starsky  
asked warily.

Quint held up two fingers.  "Scout's honor."

"And just what do you get out of this arrangement, Quint?"

"I hear things, `cause I keep my mouth shut and act stupid.  I've  
heard about you on the street and everybody says you're an honest  
cop, who pays his debts.."  Quint sat down next to Starsky.   "I've  
also heard that you were set up and I figure you'll beat the wrap  
and get out before long.  I've got a year to go, but I could use a  
friend when I get out of here."

"You help me and I'll definitely owe you, my friend."  Starsky  
replied enthusiastically.  "But I'll never be able to get back on  
the force.  I'll help in any way I can, though."

Quint stuck out a meaty hand.  "Deal....you got a partner."

"Do you know who's behind the set up?"

"Some rich old geezer in C-block, from what I've heard.  Never has  
to leave his cell, the guards bring him his meals and all.  He sure  
has a hardon for you.  He wants you dead real bad."

"Gunther....it has to be."  A chill wound its way up Starsky's  
spine.  "We heard he was in bad shape....has cancer.  I didn't  
consider him a threat anymore."

"He's not well, but he lives a pretty pampered existence, funded by  
some offshore accounts he had stashed away when he got busted."   
Quint shook his head.  "He probably doesn't have much time left, but  
he's obsessed with the idea of taking you with him."

"Let's do our best to not let that happen, okay?"  Starsky chuckled  
mirthlessly.

"He's got a lot of people in his pocket....guards as well as  
inmates.  But if they think you're my spouse, maybe we can hold them  
off for awhile."

"Spouse, huh?"  He looked dubiously at the big man's facial  
hair.  "Hope I don't have to kiss you or anything.  I like my men  
clean-shaven."

Quint laughed....an infectious roar.  "Nah, no need for that.  Just  
let me take the lead and play along.  Of course, we need to stick  
together whenever we're in the yard or at meals so I can watch your  
ass."

"But you are just gonna watch it, right?"

"That's the plan, Dave.  Or do you prefer David."

"Dave'll do just fine.  I guess we'd better get to dinner before  
they come looking for us, though."

"I gave one of the guards a carton of cigarettes for, shall we say,  
a conjugal visit.  He was real happy to oblige.  They're not fond of  
you here, are they?"

"I didn't make a good first impression," Starsky said sourly,  
remembering his first day and the anger and hopelessness he'd felt.

  
Hutch sat upright in bed, drenched in sweat.  The dreams of Starsky  
being dead to him had altered since he'd gotten the stubborn fool to  
start talking.  They'd been replaced with erotic fantasies....about  
his partner.  His best friend had been such a big part of his life  
for so long that now it seemed he couldn't distinguish where he  
ended and the other man began.  He was going to have to face some  
hard questions when this was all over and his partner was out.  But  
he had to concentrate on finding the key to Starsky's prison before  
he could search for the one which would set him free....free to love  
again....free to make a life with the man he loved.  He hoped the  
man he loved felt the same way.

  
Prisons have an active grapevine and when everyone returned from the  
dining hall, it was apparent that he and Quint had been discussed at  
dinner.  A few were thrilled to see the ex-cop humiliated and  
brought down to their level, but there were many more who were  
disconcerted over the arrangement, either because they'd wanted a  
piece of the dark-haired man for themselves or because Gunther would be unhappy that they'd failed again.  There were many ribald  
comments at Starsky's expense, but he let them pass and managed to  
act aggrieved, yet resigned to accepting the big man's attentions.   
No one dared to challenge Quint and the former detective felt a  
small measure of relief because of the man's protection.

Alone in his cell later, his thoughts drifted to Hutch, as always.   
Now that he'd confessed at least part of the truth, he felt the  
chasm which had separated them was breeched and his soul was  
healed.  He knew there were going to be some difficult issues yet to  
resolve between them.  He was going to have to go somewhere deep  
within himself and face the demon which had been niggling at his  
mind for longer than he cared to think about.  But for better or  
worse....he smiled at the phrase he'd chosen....Hutch would at least  
finally know how he felt and they could face the rest of their lives  
accordingly.  He sobered as another thought came to him....if only  
Gunther didn't get to him first.

The next day, he tried to put a call through to Hutch, but was  
denied phone privileges, even though he'd managed to stay out of  
trouble during the last few months he'd been there.  This told him,  
more than anything else, how heavy a hand Gunther had on the pulse  
of the prison.  He'd have to wait until Hutch came to see him and  
hope they would still allow him visitors.  If not, he had no doubt  
that his buddy would tear the place down to get to him if he had to.

  
Hutch roused himself early on the next visiting day and drove the  
nearly five hours that it took to get to the penitentiary, only to  
be told by a young receptionist that David Starsky was to be allowed  
no visitors.  Not to be turned away, he called Dobey and authorized  
an official interview.  Not able to deny that, the receptionist  
passed his request on to a guard, who seemed extremely agitated when  
he saw the name of the prisoner to be interrogated.

Taking it in his stride, however, he informed Hutch that Starsky was  
out in the yard with his fuck buddy and that he'd go and get him,  
leaving the detective to draw his own conclusions.   And the  
conclusions were not pleasant for him.  Just thinking of Starsky  
with someone else made him see red and he had to admit to himself  
that he loved his friend as much more than just a pal.  He shoved  
the feelings down and forced himself to concentrate on the task at  
hand, getting his partner out.

He was pleased to see that Starsky appeared anxious to see him and  
thrilled to notice that he seemed to be in better spirits and that a  
quick inspection revealed no new injuries that Hutch could see.

"Hey, buddy, you're looking better.  You take over the cellblock or  
something?"

Starsky smiled.  "Nah, just found a friend."

Hutch experienced a pang of jealousy and felt the need to change the  
subject.  "I heard.  You ready to fill me in on who's behind this  
set up?"

"I've got the whole story now, Blintz."

"Who's the main man?"

"Would you believe big bad Gunther?"

"Damn, Starsk.  He's in here with you.  How can I keep you safe?"

"I've got some muscle on the inside now.  Don't worry about  
me....just watch your own back, partner."

"Who am I looking for on the outside?"

"Nando Apollyon was the contact man....Ponti was behind it.  They  
had guys working New York."  Starsky balled his fists.  "Hutch, they  
brought me stuff I knew had come out of ma's house to prove to me  
that they could get to her."

"Nikos Ponti?  That surprises me.  He must've owed Gunther a big  
favor."

"Be careful, buddy.  Ponti's organization's huge.  I couldn't handle  
it if anything happened to you."

Hutch looked into the worried eyes.  "You know how I feel with you  
in here.  Starsk, who was there....that night?  Besides Apollyon?"

"Johnny Minetti and some hood I've never seen before.  Never heard  
his name, either.  I think he might have been from out-of-town."

"I'll go after Minetti....try and get something on him....see if I  
can make him talk.  I might be able to turn Nando against Ponti, but  
I seriously doubt if that'll happen.  He's one tough dude and he's  
always been loyal to the Ponti family.  Did he do the shooting?"

Starsky hung his head.  "Yanked my gun outta my holster before I  
knew what was happening and let `em have it.  I was worried about  
you."  He raised his voice.  "They weren't supposed to hurt you,  
Hutch.  Just keep you busy until the deal went down.  I'm sorry."

Hutch reached over and laid his hands on the tightly balled  
fists.  "You know I've got the second hardest head around.  A  
phrenologist would have a field day with us."

"I won't even ask what that is."  A thought hit Starsky right  
between the eyes.  "How you gonna protect ma?"

Hutch grinned broadly, glad to be able to relieve at least one of  
his friend's concerns.

"Already done.  We've got her out-of-town and where they'll never  
find her."

"Thanks buddy," Starsky relaxed for the first time.  "I really owe  
you."

"You have no idea."  Hutch chuckled.  "But I intend to be around to  
make sure you pay me back in full."

"I hope to god you are, babe."  The other man sighed.   "I hope we  
both are."

They said their goodbyes and Hutch left, anxious to find Minetti and  
beat the information he wanted out of him, if necessary.

That night, Starsky and Quint had just started to eat when a fight  
broke out between two factions of the prison population.  It took  
all the guards to try and break it up and while they were otherwise  
engaged, the pair was jumped by three other inmates.  Starsky's  
friend went down under the weight of two of the men and he saw a  
flash of silver as they stabbed him repeatedly. "Quint," he yelled  
as he started toward him, but an arm came around his neck and he  
felt a thin blade slide into his side like a hot knife through  
butter, a piercing pain which caused flashes of light behind his  
eyelids and then darkness claimed him.  His last conscious thought  
was of Hutch and if he had another chance, he'd tell him how he felt  
about him before he had a chance to wimp out.

  
"Damn it, Minetti, you know you're screwed."  Hutch hissed through  
clenched teeth.  "We got you with enough coke to send you away for a hell of a long time."  His tone softened.  "But I can offer you  
what's behind door number one.  I want my buddy out of that prison.   
I know you didn't set him up, but you were there that night and you  
know that he didn't pull the trigger..  You talk to me and we can  
put Ponti where he belongs and give you a get out of jail card."

"I can't.  Ponti'll kill me."

"I'll kill you myself if something happens to my partner because of  
you, punk!"

Dobey stuck his head in the door of the interrogation room and  
motioned for Hutch.

"Yeah, Cap?"

"It's not going too well, is it?  We can't keep him here forever.   
His lawyer'll be showing up before too long."

"Ponti's got him running scared.  I've gotta stay on him."

"Something's gone down at the prison, Hutch.  A riot broke out  and  
a couple of the guards were killed.  The inmates have taken over the  
dining hall and we know that Starsky and a friend of his were hurt,  
too.  The guards can see them and neither one of them is moving.   
They can't get to them, though, until they can regain control.  I'm  
really sorry."

The color drained from Hutch's face.

"Jeezus, Cap, I've gotta get up there."

Captain Dobey laid a hand on the agitated man's shoulder.

"The best thing you can do for him is to keep the pressure on  
Minetti.  He's the only chance Starsky's got.  I'll try to arrange a  
police copter to fly you up there as soon as you can get free."

Hutch entered the interview room and slammed the door behind him.   
He grabbed Minetti by the shirt front and hauled him out of his  
chair.

"How'd you like to go up for murder one, Minetti?  There's a riot at  
San Quentin and my partner's either dead or dying. If I don't get  
somebody else to pin it on, it's your baby!  You helped put him  
there."

Hutch yanked the man even closer.  "Give me Ponti and I'll let you  
slither off into the grass like the snake you are."

Only when Minetti made a weak movement indicating he wanted to say something, did Hutch ease the pressure he had on the man's neck.

"You gotta put me in witness protection.  Ponti's got a million  
relatives.  They'll put a contract out on me, for sure."

Hutch pushed him back down on the chair and put a yellow legal pad  
in front of him.

"You give me a statement and I'll see that you get taken care of."

He was gratified to see Minetti start scribbling.  Hutch called  
someone in to watch the suspect and left the room.  Dobey had found  
a chopper and a pilot for him and after going over what needed to be  
present on Minetti's statement, he headed for the airport and the  
San Francisco area.

It was a three-ring circus around the prison, with S.W.A.T. teams,  
prison personnel and the media milling around and no one questioned  
Hutch's badge or his motivation for being there.  He entered the  
prison and followed the noise to the eating area.  The inmates had  
barricaded themselves in and were armed with the guns they'd taken  
off the dead guards.

One of the guards recognized him and questioned his right to be  
there.  This alerted the warden and he told two of the prison guards  
to escort the detective outside.

Hutch stood his ground.  "My partner's in there and I'm not leaving  
until I know if he's alive or dead.  I'll shoot the first man who  
puts hands on me."

"Partner?  I wasn't aware we had any police detectives imprisoned  
here."  The warden puffed himself up like the smallest rooster in  
the henhouse, trying to impress the whole barnyard.  "He's your ex-  
partner, Detective Hutchinson."

"That's where you're wrong, warden.  He'll always be my partner in  
everything I do and nobody's going to change that."

"Starsky's dead, along with that sleaze pal of his," one of the  
guards informed him..  "Neither one of them's moved a muscle since  
this whole thing started hours ago.  If he ain't dead, he's lost  
enough blood that he will be.  Good riddance, I say."

Hutch was in the guard's face before he knew what was happening.

"Maybe you took some money from Gunther to help make that happen.   
If he is dead, I'll bring you up on accessory charges so fast, you  
won't know what hit you."

A negotiator who'd been on the phone slammed it down and  
yelled, "Okay, everybody....full riot gear.  We're going in!"

The unit was already suited up....all they needed to do was put on  
their helmets and pick up their shields.  All non-essential  
personnel were instructed to either leave or watch from behind the  
bullet-proof barrier, which had been brought in for that  
possibility.  Hutch chose the latter.  He knew that some of the  
inmates might not be coming out of this alive, unless they gave up  
peacefully and he prayed Starsky was alive, but down, out of the  
firing line if they had to open up on the prisoners.

The sound of the battering ram was deafening and when the doors came  
down, there were shots fired by the cons, but the unit held their  
fire and the bullets bounced harmlessly off the man-sized shields.   
It was over quickly as there were only two guns and they soon ran  
out of bullets and gave themselves up.

Despite orders to the contrary, Hutch followed the unit into the  
area and scanned the big room for Starsky.  There were two bodies  
lying unattended, still and pale in a far corner.  Angered that his  
partner had evidently been written off as a corpse, Hutch scrambled  
across the distance to get to him. 

`So much blood,' he thought as he reached him and felt for a  
pulse.  `Damn Gunther....damn, damn, damn the man!'  If Starsky was  
dead, he wouldn't leave the prison without paying him a visit.

The man in question opened one eye.  "Is it all over?"

"Starsky?  I thought you were dead."   The movement of the artery  
beneath Hutch's fingers was steady, but weak.

"I kinda figured I would be if those scumbags knew they hadn't  
finished me.  Do you know how long I've been layin' on this cold,  
hard floor, trying not to move?  And I didn't even get to eat."

Greatly relieved, Hutch grinned at him.  Starsky would always be  
Starsky.  And he wouldn't ever want him to change.

"Would you check on Quint?  I think he was gone before he hit the  
floor, but I can't be sure."

Hutch started to feel for a pulse, but the body was already cold and  
stiff.  "Sorry, Starsk."  He got to his feet.  "I've got to get you  
some help.  You've lost a lot of blood."

He took off his jacket and put it over the other man's chest, afraid  
that he'd go into shock.  "I'll be right back, okay?"

"I'll be here, buddy."

"You make sure you are."

After finding paramedics waiting outside, he left them with Starsky  
and called Dobey to give him the news.  When he returned, they were  
ready to transport him to the Emergency Room.  They wouldn't let him  
ride along, so he followed in the car.

They rushed the patient into surgery and once again Hutch was left  
waiting for the outcome.  When his name was called, he was deep into a Redbook article about dog care, which was a last resort.

"Detective Hutchinson?

"How is he, doctor?"

"He should be fine.  He lost a lot of blood, but there were no vital  
organs involved.  Of course, we have to watch for complications."   
The doctor averted his gaze.  "I'm afrtaid he'll have to be placed  
in the locked ward, but you can visit him as soon as he comes out of  
recovery.  Someone will come for you."

  
Hutch slipped into the dimly-lit hospital room and fell into a  
chair, exhausted.

********************************************************************

"I didn't think you'd ever get here," an anxious voice declared from  
the hospital bed.

"What are you doing awake, you're supposed to be resting."  Hutch  
lectured.  "Do I need to get a nurse and have her knock you out?"

"There's a couple who could do it with one punch."  Starsky looked  
straight into eyes which reminded him of pale blue crystal.  "I'm  
too excited to rest.  I had to wait until you came to tell you I'm  
in love."

"With your....um....fuck buddy."  Hutch intoned unenthusiastically.

Puzzled, but undaunted, Starsky forged ahead.  "I'm thinkin' of it  
in more romantic terms, but, okay....whatever works for you.  You  
don't have a problem with it?"

"I just want you to be happy, Starsk.  But how well do you think a  
long-term prison relationship's going to work?"

"What do you mean?  If I do have to go back, it won't be for long.   
You wouldn't wait for me?"

"Me?"  Hutch's heart began pounding wildly.  "You're in love with  
me?"

"Now who's the moron?  Who else would I be in love with?"

"One of the guards told me that you and one of the other  
inmates....had been....together."

Starsky tried to sit up, was rewarded with a sharp stab of pain and  
decided that if he'd known it was going to be this complicated, he'd  
have waited for a better time.

"Hutch, there is absolutely no other man in this world that I'd have  
the nerve to say `I'm in love with you' to, even if I was.  I'm not  
gay, just crazy about you.  Quint and I were friends for a short  
time, nothing more.  He and I were going through the motions, so I  
would have some protection from the others."  Starsky sighed  
deeply.  "In the end, I cost him his life."

"Damn, I'm sorry; I didn't realize he was the one who was killed.   
But Gunther is responsible, not you."

"But I feel responsible.  That's the reason I got drawn into all  
this in the first place.  I couldn't stand the idea of seeing anyone  
else die because of me."  Starsky squeezed his eyes shut.  "I'm sick  
of the system, Hutch.  We put `em in jail....they get `em back out  
and good people have to pay for it with their lives.  I don't want  
to be a cop anymore."

"Me, either.  I'm done.  I got into this to help people, but I think  
we've done more harm than good sometimes."

"That's settled, then.  But you still haven't answered my  
question."  Starsky pressed.  "Are you totally disgusted with the  
thought of us....together?"

Hutch blushed, still not completely comfortable with the subject.   
He smiled shyly.

"No, not disgusted.  It's gonna take some getting used to.   
Actually, I've been having some pretty erotic dreams lately with you  
and I as the major participants."

"Oh, yeah, I'd really like to hear about those."  Starsky smiled  
tiredly.  "But you need to go home and get some sleep, Blondie.  We  
have all the time in the world to be together."

Hutch got up reluctantly.  "You've got a guard on your door, but I  
really think I should stay here."

He leaned over the bed and stared into the fathomless cobalt eyes.

"I love you, Starsk.  Don't you ever forget that again."

"I love you, too and thanks for never losing faith in me," he  
mumbled sleepily.

Hutch cupped the man's face with one hand and leaned closer to  
gently touch his partner's lips with his.  "A promise of coming  
attractions."  he whispered.

Starsky smiled and nestled his head into the pillow.  "I think I can  
sleep now," he said softly.

"You'd better.  I want you up and around as soon as possible so we  
can start fulfilling all of those repressed fantasies."

He wasn't sure the other man had heard him as he turned to go.

"And....Hutch?"

"I'm here."

"If I'm gonna prove to you once and for all that I'm a good kisser,  
you've gotta lose that moustache.  I like my men clean shaven."  The  
last few words deteriorated into a barely audible snore.

Hutch smiled at the idea. `I feel like a schoolboy, looking forward  
to my first date,' he thought to himself.

He'd spared Starsky the hard news.  The judge had agreed to  
transmute his sentence to time served, but only in return for  
testimony against Ponti, Apollyon and Gunther.   The Ponti  
organization was vast and supported dozens of the man's relatives,  
who'd be all out for revenge.  And Gunther could try again. They'd  
have to go into witness protection, sever ties with family and  
friends and possibly be on the run for years. 

Hutch weighed the possibilities....to be loved by the one he loved  
most or be locked in a loveless prison of his own without the bright  
spirit he called friend and soon-to-be lover.  To be with the only  
real family he'd known for years or to stay with a family whose  
priorities didn't include him except at holidays.  To remain the  
white knight and protector, keep his love safe, enjoying the same  
care and protection in return or  
to live out the rest of his life in a lonely void, never knowing if  
Starsky was dead or alive.  It didn't require a great deal of soul-  
searching.

He smiled again, thinking that the years ahead, however many they  
had together, looked pretty damn good.  Chuckling, he stroked his  
upper lip, smoothing his moustache for the last time, happier than  
he'd been in many months.

"For you, Starsk, whatever it takes," he murmured, as he quietly  
took his place back in the chair beside the bed.  There was no way  
he was going to leave the most precious thing in the world for  
someone else to protect.

THE END 

  

  


End file.
